Patience
by Matroushka
Summary: Hermione needs every scrap of patience she can muster to deal with her best friends. A Harry/Ron Christmas romance. HP/RW, HG/OC


**Patience**

-----

The waitress placed two cups of coffee on the table, and Hermione nodded her thanks as she picked up her cup and took an appreciative sip.

Ron picked up a teaspoon and began shovelling sugar into his cup as he said, "So why would he say he's spending Christmas at Hogwarts if he isn't? Why would he lie about something like that?"

Hermione sipped at her coffee as she considered the question. After a moment she said, "I'd have thought that was obvious, Ron. He knows how important your family is to you, especially at this time of year, and he doesn't want you to feel awkward about going to the Burrow without him."

"You think that's it?"

"I know it is," Hermione said firmly.

Ron's face was so expressive. Hermione could easily tell exactly what was going through his mind as he digested this snippet of information. The slightly anxious look gave way to one of relief, only to be quickly chased away by the setting of Ron's jaw into the stubborn expression that meant he'd made up his mind about something and would not be deterred.

"As if I'd leave him alone on Christmas Day," Ron scoffed. "I love my sister, but sometimes I could strangle her. She's being a right bitch. I mean, it's not as if she's sitting alone every bloody night pining for him or anything. From what I've heard she's having the time of her life. Different bloke every week, just about."

Hermione shot Ron a reproving look. "You shouldn't believe all the gossip you hear, Ron."

"I've seen her with my own eyes, Hermione. Believe me, I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." He took a slurp of his coffee then said, "I'm not having a go about it, that's her business, after all. She's having a good time and why not? But then she mopes around at home acting all pathetic and tells Mum that she couldn't bear to see Harry at Christmas." A simpering expression settled on Ron's face and he opened his eyes wide. "We broke up at Christmas. It would just be too painful," he warbled in a reedy voice. Then he gave a derisory snort and continued, "Load of rubbish. If anyone's taken it hard, it's him, not her. Don't see Harry out whoring every night. "

"Would you rather he was?"

"No!"

Heads turned at the sudden, loud exclamation, and a flush rose to Ron's face.

"I mean, that's up to him, obviously," Ron said softly as he picked up his coffee cup and tried to hide behind it.

Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, fighting to keep the knowing grin from her face.  
"Of course," she said. "But he seems quite happy just spending time with you."

Ron sighed. "It's not like that, Hermione," he said, his tone of voice making it clear that he didn't want to discuss the issue.

"If you say so," Hermione said. Privately, she rather thought that it could be exactly like that, if one of them would actually make a move. But neither of them seemed to be able to get past their fear of rejection. Or sheer male stupidity. Or something.

"Right then," Ron said with the air of someone deliberately changing the subject. "I'm going to go and see Mum this afternoon and tell her that if Harry isn't welcome, then I'm not coming either."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Harry wouldn't want you causing an argument over him, you know that. He's very fond of your family and -"

"All the more reason," Ron interrupted. "Mum was always going on about how Harry was one of the family and then she treats him like this. It's not on, Hermione. Especially not at Christmas. Christmas is special for him. He never had one when he was a kid, you know that, and you could see how much he enjoyed it when he came to the Burrow. I used to love watching his face. It just lit up and..." Ron's voice trailed off and he looked acutely embarrassed. He cleared his throat and said, "Anyway, if he's not welcome to spend Christmas at the Burrow this year, then neither am I. He's not sitting in that house on his own. Especially not after what happened last year. That was a bloody disaster."

Hermione suppressed a wince at the memory. Ginny had made it clear that she'd expected a marriage proposal last Christmas; Harry's refusal to cooperate had not gone down well, to say the least. She nodded slowly.

"I suppose you're right."

"And I know you're going to see your mum and dad on Christmas Day, but you'll spend Christmas Eve and Boxing Day with us, right?"

"Of course I will, Ron."

"Brilliant!" Ron slurped down the rest of his coffee, pushed himself to his feet and dropped a sloppy kiss on Hermione's cheek. "Right. I'm going to go and talk to Mum. I'll owl you and let you know what she says, okay? And thanks, Hermione."

Hermione drained her cup and then glanced at her watch. She still had a lot to do, but the tea shop was warm and cosy, and her feet were aching from all the shopping she had done earlier. She could see through the window that it had begun snowing again, and she gave a little shiver at the thought of stepping out into the icy winds that blew down Diagon Alley.

At that moment, the waitress began clearing her table and Hermione made a rapid decision. She ordered herself another cup of coffee, and impulsively added a slice of chocolate cake to her order. The rest of her shopping could wait. She settled back into her chair and opened the newspaper that she had brought with her, but after reading a few lines her thoughts began to wander.

She'd had her doubts when they'd all moved into Grimmauld Place after the war. It had seemed the natural, sensible thing to do at the time, although Molly had fussed and fretted, bemoaning the lack of wedding rings and insisting that everyone have separate bedrooms. She needn't have worried, as it turned out.

Despite everyone's assumptions, Ron and Hermione had never gone further than kissing. Ron had never pushed for more and Hermione, if she were entirely honest, hadn't been all that interested in taking things further. But moving into the house had seemed to change things. Hermione somehow felt that there was an expectation that she and Ron would consummate their relationship. So when she found Ron in her bedroom one night, stammering and blushing, she wasn't entirely surprised.

Disappointing was the word Hermione would use to describe her first sexual experience. She had read quite widely on the subject, of course, and knew that that was probably unavoidable. They had both been virgins, after all. But she was never one to shrink from a challenge, and mediocrity was not something Hermione was prepared to accept in any part of her life. After all, if a thing was worth doing, it was worth doing well. So the following morning she had settled down with a copy of _A Wyches Gyde to the Delytes of the Wyzardley Wande_, which she found to be as informative as it was hilarious. And that night, Ron had found Hermione in his bed.

Hermione smiled as the waitress placed a cup of coffee and a large piece of chocolate cake on the table. There was a mound of whipped cream, a couple of chocolate curls and several cherries on the plate, and Hermione could almost feel her hips growing just looking at it. She picked up the fork with a smile of anticipation. The chocolate burst on her taste buds and she gave a little hum of contentment. Life was good. She loved teaching, and every day at Hogwarts was a joy. She had good friends, and the new Potions Master, who was single and rather attractive, had finally asked her out to dinner.

Her thoughts turned once more to her friends. She really didn't know how to help them, although she very much wanted to. She knew her interference wouldn't be welcomed. But Ron was understandably reluctant to make the first move, Harry was seemingly oblivious, and Hermione was running out of patience with the pair of them.

Ron. Hermione smiled softly as she thought of him. He had tried so hard to do what he thought everyone expected of him. At first, Hermione had believed that all they needed was practice. That experience would bring the skill, the passion, the indefinable _something_ their lovemaking had so obviously lacked. But the day that Harry had got caught in a sudden downpour while working in the garden had changed everything. He'd trudged into the kitchen, dripping wet and covered in mud, and had dragged his shirt off and jokingly wrung it out over the sink. Hermione had laughed and turned to Ron. She couldn't remember why. Probably to make a funny comment or something. But for one moment she'd seen his unguarded expression as he'd stared at Harry, and knew. At that moment she'd realised why their attempts at sex had been so pathetic. Ron had never looked at her with such hunger, such naked longing. She wasn't who Ron wanted in his bed.

She had expected to be upset at this revelation. She had gone up to her room, sat on the bed and waited for the shock of discovery to dissipate and the pain of betrayal to kick in. But it never had. Instead, she'd felt only a vague sense of relief, which had rather surprised her, and pity for Ron's predicament, which hadn't. After all, Harry had still been with Ginny at that point, and Hermione had assumed that Ron's feelings would remain forever unrequited.

And so they had talked. Well, Hermione had talked. Ron had simply sat there, staring at the floor, the very epitome of abject misery until what she was trying to say to him finally sank in.

They hadn't made a big thing of it. They'd simply let it be known, casually, that they'd decided that they made better friends than lovers. And when Hermione was offered the position of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts, no one was happier for her than Ron. He'd helped her move, and when Harry had insisted that she keep her room in Grimmauld Place, saying that she would always have a home with them, Ron had heartily agreed.

She gave a sated sigh as she swallowed the last forkful of cake, washed down with the last of her coffee. It appeared to have stopped snowing again and so, fortified by caffeine and chocolate, Hermione decided that she might just have enough energy to finish her shopping before returning to Hogwarts.

-----

"You have to talk to him, Hermione."

"I don't think -"

"He'll listen to you," Harry insisted. "Molly is really upset, apparently. You know how she gets. Ron has to -"

"Hang on," Hermione interrupted. "Who told you that Molly is upset?"

"Oh, I um, bumped into Ginny."

"She didn't waste any time, did she?" Hermione muttered.

Harry frowned. "She was just concerned about her mum."

Hermione rolled her eyes and made no attempt to keep the exasperation from her tone as she snapped, "Stop it! You know very well what this is about and it absolutely infuriates me to hear you make excuses for her. You did nothing wrong. It's not as if you seduced her and then dumped her, for goodness' sake. It was painfully obvious to everyone that you weren't interested in marrying her – you can't be held responsible for her delusions. I'm sorry, Harry, but in this case I'm right behind Ron. He's doing what he thinks is right and Molly should be ashamed of herself for indulging Ginny the way she does."

Harry blinked rapidly. "I wasn't -"

"It's time that girl grew up," Hermione continued, not giving Harry time to protest. "I'm sure Molly was upset, but so was Ron. Remember him? Your best friend?"

"But...but he didn't say anything about -"

"Of course he didn't! Because he doesn't want to make you feel guilty, unlike other people I could mention."

Hermione screwed her eyes shut as she massaged her temples. She was tired and had a splitting headache, and definitely wasn't in the mood to listen to Harry make excuses for Ginny's selfishness. She still loved Ron, not in a romantic sense, of course, but she loved him nonetheless, and it infuriated her that Harry was hurting him through his blind obstinacy.

"I just don't want Ron to argue with his family over me, that's all."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, Ron would choose you over his family every time."

Harry hung his head. Hermione watched as he restlessly shredded a piece of scrap parchment that he'd picked up from her desk.

"He shouldn't," Harry mumbled. "I'm not... He wouldn't if he knew..."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up at the muttered words, and she drew her wand and Summoned a phial of Headache Potion. She swallowed its contents quickly and gave a sigh of relief as the pain abated. She could be completely wrong, but it seemed as though Harry was finally ready to talk to her, and she definitely needed to have her wits about her.

"If he knew what?" Hermione asked softly.

Harry shook his head.

"Would it have anything to do with the fact that you haven't gone out with anyone since Ginny left?"

Harry looked up, his eyes wary. "I've been busy."

"Really? You seem to have plenty of time to spend with Ron."

Hermione suppressed a grin at the definite flash of panic on Harry's face.

"Ron never told you why we broke up, did he?"

Harry's panicked expression gave way to one of confusion, and Hermione shook her head. "You really are clueless, aren't you? I promised Ron that I wouldn't interfere and I won't, but you two are trying my patience. So I will only say this: unless I'm very much mistaken, I know exactly why you broke up with Ginny, and I think you'll find that Ron and I broke up for the same reason."

"He didn't want to get married?" Harry ventured hesitantly.

Hermione sighed. Loudly. He couldn't honestly be that dense, could he? Of course he could. Which put her in rather an awkward position. She had promised not to say anything. But surely a nudge in the right direction couldn't hurt? Deciding that subtle hints were going to be wasted in this case, Hermione began to treat Harry as if he were one of her first years. One of her particularly slow first years.

"Quite right. He didn't want to get married. But I was thinking more about the reason _why_ he didn't want to get married. At least not to me. His _girl_ friend." Hermione paused as Harry appeared to consider what she'd said. "Ron loves us both, Harry, but I'm not the one he wants to marry."

Harry simply stared at her, his mouth opening and closing silently like a particularly dimwitted goldfish. Finally his mouth snapped shut, and after a moment his face broke into a grin.

"Really? He... Me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Go away, Harry. I've got a pile of essays to mark that would dwarf Everest and – oof!"

Harry dragged her into a crushing hug as he said, "Thanks, Hermione."

A moment later he was gone.

Hermione grinned. Then she opened her desk drawer and lifted the lid of the small, gold box secreted there. Honeydukes' Gold Selection was a guilty pleasure she allowed herself rarely, but she felt she had earned a treat. She plucked a particularly rich looking chocolate from the centre of the box and popped it into her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she bit into it, the dark chocolate melting on her tongue as it released a burst of coffee from its truffle centre. She gave a happy little hum. Those were her favourites. Then, promising herself the reward of another dip into the box when she had finished, she turned her attention to her marking.

-----

"Hermione? Is that you, dear?"

Hermione carefully schooled her features into a pleasant smile, hopefully completely masking the flash of irritation she felt at the sight of Molly Weasley.

"Hello, Molly."

Molly pulled out the chair opposite Hermione and sat down.

"I thought it was you. Saw you through the window. Shopping is so tiring, and I was just thinking of having a sit down and a nice cup of tea, and then I noticed the little tea shop and thought I'd take a look, and there you were! So I thought..."

Hermione was spared the details of what Molly thought next as at that moment the waitress bustled up, order pad in hand, and asked brightly, "Ready to order?"

"Oh, um, I'll have a pot of tea, please, and maybe..." Molly twisted in her seat and peered at the display of cakes.

"The chocolate cake is delicious," Hermione prompted.

Molly looked undecided for a moment, then said, "Oh, why not! Treat myself."

The waitress nodded as she scratched something onto her pad, then looked enquiringly at Hermione.

"I'll just have another cup of coffee, thanks," Hermione said. She suppressed a sigh as the waitress whisked her empty cup away. She didn't believe for a second that Molly had stumbled across her at the tea shop by accident, and her suspicions were confirmed when Molly began to speak.

"I was hoping to have a word with you, Hermione. About Ron. I don't suppose you've seen him recently?"

Hermione nodded. "Actually, I saw him last week. He looked well."

Molly looked taken aback. "Oh, I see. He's probably told you, then?"

Hermione toyed vaguely with the idea of pleading ignorance, but decided it would probably be easier in the long run to simply grasp the bull by the horns. "You mean about spending Christmas at Grimmauld Place with Harry instead of at the Burrow?"

Molly nodded vigorously. "I don't know what's got into him. It's not like him to... I mean, he doesn't seem to understand. Since Fred... I just need the family there. George will be bringing Angelina, and Bill and Fleur are coming with the new baby. Everybody will be there. But he said that if Harry wasn't welcome, then he wouldn't be coming either, and he was being completely unreasonable. Ginny is still terribly upset and she is his sister, after all, but he doesn't seem to care about that. And I know that Harry's his friend, but really, family should come first, especially at Christmas. You can see that, can't you, dear?"

"I'd always understood that you regarded Harry as part of your family too, Molly," Hermione said acidly.

Molly looked startled. "Well of course! But..."

Molly seemed to be floundering as she waved a hand vaguely. She opened her mouth again, but at that moment the waitress returned with their order. Which was probably fortuitous timing, in Hermione's opinion, as it gave her a chance to cool down rather than snap at the woman sitting opposite her.

"Anyway, I was just wondering if you could have a word with Ron," Molly said as she picked up the tiny silver teapot and poured herself a cup of tea. "You were always good at explaining things."

Hermione deliberately pushed away the spike of anger that arose at Molly's words, took a deep breath, and said, "I don't think it would do any good, Molly."

"But I'm sure he'd listen to -"

"No," Hermine snapped sharply.

Molly blinked rapidly and opened her mouth again, but Hermione raised a hand in a quelling motion.

"I won't try to persuade Ron to change his mind because I happen to agree with him," Hermione said firmly.

"But -"

"And you should be ashamed of yourself, Molly Weasley," Hermione said, throwing her previous reticence, and a good deal of caution, out the window. "Harry would never do anything to hurt your family, and you've treated him appallingly. He has no one left but your family, and you've taken that away from him without even bothering to find out why he and Ginny split up."

"Of course I did!" Molly huffed indignantly. "I spoke to Ginny about it. Heartbroken, she was, and I don't blame her. I mean, living there with him like they were already married, well, the least he could do was make an honest women of her. Saviour of the wizarding world he may be, but that doesn't give him the right to -"

"What?" Hermione interrupted. "Did Ginny tell you they were sleeping together?"

A flush rose to Molly's cheeks. "Not in so many words but, well, I'm not blind," Molly said mulishly. "I knew no good would come of you all staying in that house unchaperoned, and I was right. I mean, look at you and Ron. You'd probably be married by now if you hadn't, well, you know." Molly raised her eyebrows and gave Hermione a significant look.

Hermione sighed tiredly. "Ron and I have got nothing to do with this. We're talking about Harry and Ginny, and I can assure you they had separate rooms. Harry made it plain to Ginny that he wouldn't take advantage of her, Molly. And he didn't. I know that for a fact," Hermione said firmly in the face of Molly's obvious disbelief.

"Young men say these things, but it doesn't take much for them to go a bit further than they mean to," Molly said knowingly. "Leading a girl on and -"

"Not in this case."

Molly looked unconvinced. "Well, that's as maybe," she said as she picked up her fork and began eating her cake. "You're right. This is delicious."

Hermione listened with half an ear as Molly rambled on about her morning spent shopping in between bites of cake. She felt vaguely annoyed that she hadn't been able to convince Molly that she was treating Harry quite unfairly. It wasn't really surprising, though, as Molly didn't know what Hermione knew and it wasn't her place to enlighten the woman. Tempting though the idea was. Hermione sipped at her coffee, watching Molly over the rim of her cup. It wouldn't be right. It wasn't her secret to tell. But then again, Hermione was growing rather irritated at being treated as a mere go-between...

"Hermione?"

Hermione's head snapped up. "Sorry, miles away."

Molly smiled. "I expect you're feeling a bit tired. Takes it out of you, Christmas shopping, doesn't it? Be glad to get home and put my feet up myself, I can tell you, and I haven't been teaching all week like you have."

Hermione nodded and picked up the bill that the waitress had slipped onto the table. A moment later it was plucked from her hand.

"Let me get that, dear," Molly said. She looked at the bill carefully, obviously checking the adding up, then pulled out a soft leather pouch and began counting out coins. She waved away Hermione's protest, so Hermione just smiled and thanked her.

They rose to their feet, each gathering up the bags they'd placed under the table, then made their way out into Diagon Alley.

"You'll pop in to see us over Christmas, won't you?" Molly asked. "Everyone would love to see you."

The fact that Ron wouldn't be there hung between them.

"I'd like that," Hermione said. "I'm spending Christmas Day with my parents, this year."

"Of course. Christmas is a time to be with your family and those you love. I just wish..." Molly's voice died away. Her eyes looked suddenly glassy with unshed tears, and her bottom lip wobbled.

"Bugger it," Hermione muttered under her breath as she reached quickly into her pocket and pulled out a clean tissue. She pressed it into Molly's hand. Silently cursing Molly's stubbornness, Ginny's bloody-mindedness, and Harry and Ron's thick-headedness, she made a decision.

-----

"Anyone home?" Hermione called as she stepped out of the Floo.

There was a thumping noise, then a loud bang, and a few moments later Harry's voice came floating down the stairs.

"Hermione? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

"I need to talk to you and Ron," Hermione said as Harry appeared at the top of the stairs. He appeared to have just stumbled out of bed; barefoot and bare chested, he was wearing only a rumpled pair of jeans that he'd obvious just dragged on.

"Is that Hermione?"

Ron appeared behind Harry. Oddly enough, he, too, appeared to have just stumbled out of bed. Hermione made no attempt to hide the smirk that rose to her face.

"I'll put the kettle on while you two get dressed, shall I?" she said, her grin growing wider at the look of embarrassment on their faces at being caught in bed together.

She had just placed three mugs of tea on the table when Harry and Ron came into the kitchen. Before she could say a word, she was grabbed in a bear hug by Ron, who kissed her cheek and whispered, "Thanks, Hermione," into her ear.

"Leave some for me," Harry said as Ron released her, and she found herself swept into another hug. "Thank you."

"Well, I don't know if you'll be thanking me in a minute," Hermione said as she sat down at the kitchen table.

Ron was already sitting opposite her, mug of tea in his hand, and Harry dropped into the seat next to him.

"Why? What's happened?" Harry asked, smiling as Ron slipped an arm around him and absently dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

They looked so happy, and for the first time, Hermione felt a tiny pang of jealousy. It didn't last long, however, as it was quickly overwhelmed by a resurgence of the doubt that had brought her here in the first place. She had acted impetuously; it wasn't like her at all. But the sudden urge she'd felt to set Molly straight on a few things as they'd stood outside the little tea shop had overriden her usual caution. A few whispered words was all it had taken. The expression on Molly's face had made it clear that she understood.

"Well, I met your mum this afternoon in Diagon Alley, Ron. She saw me having a cup of coffee, and we started talking, and -"

"Oh, no," Ron interrupted. "I suppose she asked you to try and talk me out of spending Christmas with Harry, right? She had no right to drag you into it. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"No, that's fine," Hermione said, wrapping her hands around the mug of tea and raising it to her lips. She sipped at it for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then continued, "She did mention it, and of course I told her that I completely agreed with you, but, well, I might have actually said a little more than I had a right to."

Ron frowned, and Harry's eyes widened.

"I wasn't thinking," Hermione continued quickly, "and she wouldn't listen to me. She's firmly convinced that Harry used and discarded Ginny like an old tissue and simply will not listen to reason, and then she got upset and said that you," she gestured at Ron, "should be with spending Christmas with those you love. So I...I said that's why you were staying with Harry." She leant forward earnestly. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to tell her but she just..."

Hermione fell silent. Ron's jaw had dropped, but Harry was smiling. He winked at her and said, "It's okay, Hermione. Don't get your knickers in a knot. We'd have told her ourselves, anyway."

Ron's jaw snapped shut. Then he turned to face Harry and said, "You're okay with that? Telling people, I mean?"

Harry frowned. "Of course I am. Why? Don't you want -"

His words were swallowed by Ron's mouth as Harry was pulled into a bruising kiss. Hermione watched unashamedly for a moment, then averted her eyes and loudly cleared her throat.

"I love you, you idiot, and I'd happily shout it from the top of Gryffindor Tower," she heard Harry say softly. And Ron – Ron was grinning like an idiot as he stared into Harry's eyes.

She cleared her throat again. Two blindingly happy faces turned towards her.

"Well, I'm very relieved that I haven't upset you," Hermione said. "I'm still sorry, though. I shouldn't have said anything, but she got me so -"

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted. "Don't worry about it, honestly. I know what Mum's like. She'd try the patience of a saint. You wouldn't be the first to blurt something like that out just to shut her up, believe me."

Harry sniggered, and Ron turned and kissed him again. Hermione rolled her eyes, although she couldn't quite keep the fond smile from her lips. Catching herself staring at them once again, she tore her gaze from the unsettlingly erotic sight of her best friends kissing passionately, and began studying the kitchen wall...and the clock, which reminded her that she had only two hours in which to prepare for her dinner date that evening.

She rose to her feet, picked up her mug of tea, tipped it down the sink and rinsed out the mug. Then she walked over to the doorway and said loudly, "Well, I should be off, then."

Her two best friends immediately broke their kiss and stood up.

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "You don't have to go. You're welcome to stay for dinner."

"Thank you, but no. I've no wish to play gooseberry for the evening," Hermione said primly. "Besides, I have dinner plans myself."

"Things going well with Dishy Derek then, are they?" Harry asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione burst out laughing. "Where on earth did you hear that name?"

"One of the blokes at work. His sister's in sixth year. All the girls have a crush on 'Dishy Derek with the dreamy eyes'."

"Who?"

"Potions Master at Hogwarts, Ron," Harry explained. "Hermione's been seeing him."

"Oh yeah? What's he like then, this bloke?"

"Dreamy, apparently," Harry said, sighing theatrically as he batted his eyelashes.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, swatting at Harry as she felt herself blush.

"Yeah, well, as long as he treats you all right. You have any trouble with him, you let me know," Ron said. "In fact, maybe we should have a word with him -"

"I'm quite capable of taking care of myself," Hermione interrupted firmly, but then she smiled and added, "But thank you, anyway."

"Have fun tonight," Harry said as he helped Hermione to put on her heavy winter cloak. "Going anywhere nice?"

"We're trying the new restaurant that's opened in Hogsmeade."

"You'll have to let us know if it's any good," Harry said.

There was a flurry of hugs and kisses, and a handful of Floo powder later Hermione was on her way back to Hogwarts.

-----

Hermione raised her eyebrows as the tawny owl swooped towards her. She rarely got anything in the morning post delivery. It landed carefully on the table and stretched out its leg. She untied the scroll and then gave the owl the bacon rinds that she'd pushed to the side of her plate. It swallowed them quickly, squawked its thanks and took off again.

She unrolled the scroll, and smiled as she saw the messy penmanship of her best friend.

_Hey Hermione,_

_Guess what? We got an owl from Mum yesterday, apologising to Harry and inviting us to the Burrow for Christmas! She said she'd had a word with Ginny and sorted her out, which is a polite way of saying she read her the riot act, according to George. He popped in to see us and told us all about it. Said he might have let slip one or two things that she's been up to that Mum didn't know about, if you catch my drift._

_Anyway, Mum said she'd already invited you over, but I just wanted to check that you're okay to come to the Burrow on Boxing Day instead of Grimmauld Place. We're staying here for Christmas Eve like we'd planned, so we'll see you then. Oh, and Harry said that you can bring that bloke you're seeing with you, if you want._

_Love, Ron and Harry_.

Hermione was pleased that her words to Molly had had the desired effect. Harry needed the Weasleys as much as Ron did, and she felt greatly relieved that they were reconciled once again. And it was nice of them both to suggest she bring Derek along on Christmas Eve. They hadn't been together that long, though, and she wasn't sure that -

"Everything okay?"

Hermione turned to face the man sitting next to her. His warm smile made something inside her melt a little.

"Just a slight change to my plans for Christmas, Derek," she said. "Nothing to worry about."

He nodded. "Oh, good." He paused, his fingers tapping nervously on the tabletop. "Er, actually, I wanted to ask you if you would...I mean, I was wondering if you'd be free this evening. I thought perhaps a quiet drink after dinner. If you're not too busy, of course?"

There was a hopeful, hesitant look on his face and Hermione's smile softened.

"I'd love to."

The blinding smile she received in reply made the breath catch in her throat. Maybe...maybe she'd take Harry up on his offer, after all.

The End


End file.
